Vladimir Nabokov

“The kind of poem I produced in those days was hardly anything more than a sign I made of being alive, of…

— Vladimir Nabokov

Long after her death I felt her thoughts floating through mine. Long before we met we had had the same dreams. We…

— Vladimir Nabokov

The contemplation of beauty, whether it be a uniquely tinted sunset, a radiant face, or a work of art, makes us glance…

— Vladimir Nabokov

“The cup-sized breasts of that twenty-four year old impatient beauty seemed a dozen years younger than she, with those pale squinty nipples…

— Vladimir Nabokov

“The softness and fragility of baby animals caused us the same intense pain. She wanted to be a nurse in some famished…

— Vladimir Nabokov

Perhaps if the year was 1447 instead of 1947 I might have hoodwinked my gentle nature by administering her some classical poison…

— Vladimir Nabokov

“I was the shadow of the waxwing slain By the false azure in the windowpane; I was the smudge of ashen fluff…

— Vladimir Nabokov

Look at this tangle of thorns.

— Vladimir Nabokov

No difference exists between American and European manners. A proletarian from Chicago can be just as Philistine as an English duke.

— Vladimir Nabokov

“Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth.…

— Vladimir Nabokov

“If I am not master of my life, not sultan of my own being, then no man's logic and no man's ecstatic…

— Vladimir Nabokov

“A szemek. Ada sötétbarna szeme. Végső soron mi is a szem (kérdezi Ada)? Két lyuk az élet maszkján.”

— Vladimir Nabokov

“...Van tortured himself with thoughts of insufficient filial affection—a long story of unconcern, amused scorn, physical repulsion, and habitual dismissal. He looked…

— Vladimir Nabokov

“Human life is but a series of footnotes to a vast obscure unfinished masterpiece”

— Vladimir Nabokov

He broke my heart. You merely broke my life.

— Vladimir Nabokov

My God died young. Theolatry i found Degrading, and its premises, unsound. No free man needs God; but was I free?

— Vladimir Nabokov

“Alas, the objects I had assembled wander away. The young poplar dims and takes off to return where it had been fetched…

— Vladimir Nabokov

Dear Jesus, do something.

— Vladimir Nabokov

You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style.

— Vladimir Nabokov

“This is reality, this is pure fact - this forest, this moss, your hand, the ladybird on my leg, this cannot be…

— Vladimir Nabokov

My mind speaks English, my heart speaks Russian, and my ear prefers French.

— Vladimir Nabokov

“-Why do you think I have ceased caring for you, Lo? -Well, you haven´t kissed me yet, have you?”

— Vladimir Nabokov

I believe the poor fierce-eyed child had figured out that with a mere fifty dollars in her purse she might somehow reach…

— Vladimir Nabokov

“Being a murderer with a sensational but incomplete and unorthodox memory, I cannot tell you, ladies and gentlemen, the exact day which…

— Vladimir Nabokov

“Children of her type contrive the purest philosophies. Ada had worked out her own little system. Hardly a week had elapsed since…

— Vladimir Nabokov